Hidden

Chapter 1: Attention

“Fuck,” I harshly push the hair that’s bothering me, from my face “I knew I’d get lost.” I looked at my schedule for the 50th time and then at the map of the school. ‘It’s the high school for the talented Harry. It’s only a year Harry. New start Harry.’ My mum’s words run around in my head.

Ugh I don’t want a damn new start I have a perfect one back home. Just because she gets a job here doesn’t mean she has to drag me along. England was way smaller than this and I was almost done with school! It’s the middle of the school year and she thinks she can make up for it by sticking me in an ‘artsy’ school.

In my position artsy only mean stuck up rich kids who think they can sing and dance, walking around like they’re the shit. Back home I was the king, I had everything; a band, my best mates, a girlfriend, and the teachers were easy and I was always ahead. But this is New York the place where dreams are made of, ugh that damn song.

I walk down the hall I’ve been circling for the past 20 minutes I finally spot life at the end of the hall. “Excuse me,” I jog up to them, “do you know where English 101 is?” the tall blond in heels that almost made her as tall as me, put down the tape and posters she was putting up, turned with the brightest smile. She must have paid big bucks to get them whitened.

“Wow nice accent, are you the transfer from the UK?” Ugh a peppy blond, it seems like everywhere I go in America the first thing they do is note my accent.

“Uh yeah look I’m kind of in a rush and I’ve spent most of my first day climbing the stairs so if you could just tell me where to go that’d be great.” If she doesn’t pick up on my annoyance, I’m going to explode.

“I’ll do you one more and I’ll show you myself.” Well at least I didn’t explode. As we walked down the stairs, her heels tapping on the perfect polished floor add to the head ache. “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of smiles.” She said erasing the awkward silence.

“What was that?” I asked confused by her statement.

“I can sense attitude when I hear it, I was trying to be nice but I guess you just weren’t having it.” So she did get my memo.

 “I didn’t mean to be rude it’s just I rather not be here.” And that’s the truth. We stopped walking and the metal plate on the door said room 101 notifying me we finally made it. 

“Here we are,” she said and I went to reach the door but she stopped me. “Look lose the attitude, just because you’re from ‘across the pond’” she said putting her fingers up making air quotes around the phrase, “doesn’t make you better than us, especially me. This is my school Harold-,”

“It’s Harry.” I bitterly spat.

“Whatever, this is my school and no one has an attitude problem with me get it, got it, good.” She turned the knob and opened the door for me. The teacher stopped talking and looked at us.

“Wish you luck!” she said going back to her peppy voice, “you’re going to need it.” She whispered and walks away. First day and I already hate it. I walked in and like usual all the nosey teens looking at the bald teacher and I like we’re the main act in the circus.

“Ah Mr. Styles welcome I will be your English teacher, Mr. Matthews.” He holds out his hand for me to shake but I just look at him and raise an eyebrow, “Well uh you may take whatever seats open. We are going over page 354 in the literature book under the desk.” I looked around and the only seats open was the one in the front row and two in the back.

There’s no way I’m going to be that kid front and center, I headed to the back. I slide into the seat by the window and grabbed the orange book at the bottom and turned to the page, once opened I began looking around the room. Poetry posters filled the walls along with quotes from famous people you’re supposed to look up to.